Forgotten Brothers
by LonelyFryingPan
Summary: When an old Polish legend reminds Poland just how closely intertwined his and Russia's histories are, he sets out to find the answer to the question: does their relationship run as deep as blood?
1. Chapter 1

Poland's heart raced as the book of legends slid from his fingers and tumbled to the wood panel floor. _This, like, isn't right_, he thought to himself as his mind raced through what he had just read. _There's totally no way in hell we could, like, be related!_

Poland stared at the book, which now laid spread out on the floor with its plain binding crushing the yellowed pages. It shouldn't have shocked him; that particular story had been told since the late thirteenth century. Perhaps he'd disregarded the tale and had simply forgotten about it. Maybe it was because of the changes that had happened in recent centuries. Now tears began to sting his eyes, but he wasn't completely sure just why he was crying.

_It's, like, just a legend. It's totally not true. Quit crying, like, now!_

He tried to calm down, but it was hard. Two tears slid down his face. They merged at his chin and plunked onto his thigh, leaving a small dot of denim that was darker than the rest of his jeans. Poland looked around his bright and inviting kitchen. It was the middle of December, and Poland had decorated his house for Christmas, hanging tiny candies from the doorways and strewing left over ribbons from the Mikołajki gifts a few days before. The window was frosty and Poland had drawn a horse-shaped figure on the foggy glass. Faint Christmas carols drifted in from the living room, where a large, wonderful smelling pine tree sat in a bucket of water, decorated with baubles and small wrapped chocolates.

It was a normal day in his cozy house, but Poland felt unrest.

_Quit being so totally stupid. It's like, just a legend. Not, like, true._

Poland sighed to regain his peace and reached down to pick up the book from beneath the kitchen table. A few of the worn pages were now folded and even more damaged looking than they had been before. He flipped the book closed, and then opened it again to the cover page. In loopy handwriting, it said, _"To Poland: I wish that you have enjoyed this celebration of Christmas, and that future Christmases will be as full of food, laughter, and prayer as they were this year. Your loving friend, Lithuania. January 6__th__, 1571."_

Poland gave a sad smile. It had been two years after his marriage to Liet. Liet had surprised him with a small gift on the final day of Christmas, a practice that hadn't been very common back then. Poland felt like an ass for not giving Lithuania anything, but had made it up to him by presenting his partner with a Samoyed puppy in the spring.

_He, like, wrote down all the Polish legends he heard on his own. In my own language, too! Damn it, this is, like, all I have left from our lives together._

He turned to the page he had been reading earlier. Lithuania had made the title of each story bold. Poland's head swam as he read _O Bracia Lechu, Czechu, I Rus: Założyciele Polski, Czech, i Rosji._

The Brothers Lech, Cech, and Rus : Founders of Poland, Bohemia, and Russia.

_Does this, like, mean Russia and I are brothers?_

* * *

"Poland, you're kidding me, right?" Hungary's voice sounded distant on the phone.

"I totally wish I was, but I'm not."

"Let me get this straight. You read some ancient legend that probably has no historical truth, and you start weeping and hyperventilating because you think you and Russia are brothers."

Poland was lying on his bed, the dark pink comforter pulled around him, cellphone in hand and against his ear. It was snowing outside, but Poland couldn't see the dancing flakes because he had traded in his lace curtain for heavy red ones for the winter. Krzysztof, his tiny albino polish rabbit, was romping freely around his room. The animal had been taught to use a litter box by Hungary; how she had done it, Poland was not sure how, but apparently it was easy to do so as Holland claimed that all his pets were trained. Poland draped his hand over the side of his bed and the friendly pet hopped over to be stroked.

"Pretty much," he answered.

"Wait a moment," Hungary's distant voice seemed to be pulsing. There was a heartbeat of static, and Hungary's voice returned, louder and sounding as though she were right in the room with Poland. "Sorry about that, we were moving Austria's piano into the main living room since the sitting room's got that big window in it and it gets cold, and one of the legs got caught on the phone cable. Some of the wires loosened, I just tightened them right now."

"Like, how did you manage to get the grand piano through the doorway?"

"With our awesome skills. Come on, Poland. Even if that legend is true, which I can _guarantee_ it is not, you and Russia wouldn't be brothers. You'd be cousins or something. And not even that, really. People in relation to us don't really matter. I mean, one of my men was your boss at some point, but that didn't make us married or siblings or anything."

"It's totally different," Poland said as he ran his fingers over Krzysztof's extremely small ears. "King Batory was, like, _elected_ as my boss. Russia and I- our founders were, like, brothers! That's, like, kind of extreme."

"The fact that you're getting your undies in a knot over a legend is kind of extreme."

Poland squeezed his eyes shut to counter the burning sensation he felt in them. "Hungary, like, think about it. Our languages are totally similar. That's gotta, like, mean something!"

"Germany and Britain's languages have some similarities, but nobody accuses them of being brothers." Hungary was beginning to get exasperated, but determined to cheer up her friend. "If it makes you feel any better, you look nothing like Russia _or_ his sisters."

Poland said nothing, and Hungary spoke again. "Hey, you mentioned that there are _three_ brothers, and one of them settles in Bohemia. That's where Czech Republic lives today, maybe she could tell you something."

Poland's eyes lit up and he jumped out of bed, reaching for the long grey winter coat draped across his bean bag chair. "Why didn't I totally think about that before? Like, you're awesome, Hungary. I'm gonna, like, go talk to CR right now!"

"Before you go, I want to invite you over to my house for a Christmas party. Basch and Lilli and Germany and that dickhead Prussia are coming, and Austria, well, lives here. I'm going to try to get the whole world to come over. We could spend the day taunting Prussia and finish off by getting drunk. Sound like a plan to you? You could bring Lithuania."

Poland paused at Lithuania's name. "I'll, like, totally be there, but Lithuania and I, like, aren't on the best terms right now. I mean, we're totally not at each other's throats, but we're, like, trying to be _polite_ to each other, and that's totally not a good sign."

"Well, I'll make sure this party restores your friendship. And if it doesn't," Hungary added with a laugh, "You can make Warsaw my capitol."

Poland giggled. "Sounds good to me." He scooped Krzysztof up of the floor and gently put him in his cage. "I'm leaving now, so I'll, like, see you next week."

Hungary dropped into a whisper. "I'd invite you over after you and CR talk, but," Poland could hear Austria yelling about some mess in the background, "I think Austria's on his period." Hungary was talking normally again. "So, see you next week, and I want you to tell me everything that happens."

"I totally will. Bye."

"See ya."

Poland ended the call and slid his cell phone into the coat pocket. Bidding Krzysztof goodbye, he slipped out of his room and closed the door behind him, wanting to keep the room nice and warm for his return.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

By the time Poland was standing on Czech Republic's doorstep, his toes were numb and the lower half of his jeans and boots were soaked. Slush had dominated Poland's path for the last half mile or so where the still falling snow had been pushed to the sidewalks of Prague 6. He had taken off his scarf and had wrapped up his cell phone and book of legends to keep the objects from being damaged by the damp cold. The back of his neck was pink where his long blonde hair had not shielded it from the biting wind.

Poland pressed his finger against the doorbell, which glowed a faint, luminescent orange. A pleasant chime could be heard from behind the door. A moment passed, and an impatient Poland had lifted his finger to the glowing button again when the door opened to reveal a girl in her late teens. Her feathery light blond hair tumbled down to the small of her back and her bright blue-green eyes were traced with a small amount of eyeliner.

"Poland? Can I, uh, help you?"

Poland said nothing to Czech Republic. He was starting to breathe fast, and his eyes were wide. _Like, c'mon broski! This is totally important! You can't start being, like, totally shy and scared! _

"Uh," croaked Poland, "Where'd you get that, like, adorable sweater?"

Czech Republic was not amused by the slightly taller Polish man standing on her tiny front porch. "Either come inside and stop running up my heating bill or go home."

"I, like, have to ask you something totally important," the words came out of Poland's mouth in a rush. Czech Republic seemed to understand, however, and moved aside to let Poland in.

The blond man was overjoyed to finally escape the cold. Czech Republic leaned out the doorway and looked up and down the street searching for a car or a pony or something that her guest could've arrived with, but all she could see were the usual neighbors' vehicles parked along the simple brick London-style townhouses. "You didn't _walk_ here, did you?" She questioned as she turned to Poland.

"Well, Christmas is, like, almost here and I'm gonna be totally stuffing my face with, like, cookies and vodka and all the food that's gonna be served on Wigilia and, like, at Hungary's party so I need to, like, exorcise so I don't get all fat and totally unable to fit in my cute spring clo-"

"Do you always talk this fast?" Czech Republic interrupted.

"Only when I'm, like, totally meeting new people."

"We see each other at world meetings all the time," Czech Republic furrowed her brows. "I'm not a total stranger."

Poland decided not to argue. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by his host. "So, what was your question?"

"I was, like, totally getting there."

"Well then hurry up."

Czech Republic frowned as Poland pulled a folded bundle of pale pink and grey cloth out of his coat pocket. He unfolded the cloth to show that it was a scarf; hidden amongst the pink and grey sea were a cell phone and an ancient, thin book. Poland placed the scarf and phone on the coffee table and sat down. Czech Republic lowered herself onto the lounger across from him.

"CR, do you, like, remember the story of our founders?" Poland asked as he began to flip through the pages in search of the story.

Czech Republic had a blank look on her face. "No."

"Well, if I, like, told it to you, do you think you would remember? It's, like, really important that you totally know what I'm, like, talking about."

She shrugged. "Enlighten me."

Poland arrived to the page with the legend of Lech, Cech, and Rus, and began to read slowly, allowing himself a few seconds' time to translate the words on the page from Polish into something Czech Republic could easily understand.

"_Long ago, there were, like, three brothers: Lech, Cech, and Rus_." Poland paused. "Do you like, remember anything yet?"

"No, but I applaud you for being able to throw the word 'like' in even as you're reading."

Poland continued. _"They were the co-leaders of a large tribe, and, like, lived completely off of the earth. However, the day came when the land, like, could not support the tribe any longer. Plants did not grow as plentifully as they used to. In forests, there was, like, a lack of prey. In rivers, a lack of fish._

_ "One day, the three brothers, like, gathered for a meeting in the forest. As they sat down amongst the ancient trees, the oldest and most serious brother, Rus, began to, like, speak. 'Brothers! We cannot live like this any longer! These lands are, like, ruined. Starvation is looking us right in the eye.'_

_ "'You're right', said Cech. 'But what are we supposed to do?'_

_ "Lech, the youngest of the brothers, said, 'Like, we need to find a new home for our tribe.'"_

_ "Cech and Rus agreed with their younger brother, and went to, like, inform their tribe of their decision." _

Poland closed the book and leaned back. "So, like, long story short, they move their tribe. Rus, like, takes some of the tribesman and settles in Russia, Lech takes some people and founds me, and Cech takes some people and, like, settles in Bohemia. Does it, like, ring a bell now?"

Czech Republic extended her hand and Poland gave her the book. As she began to scan the faded text, she smiled and said, "Yes, I remember the story now. But I've always heard it where there are only _two_ brothers, not three."

Poland went pale. "What?"

Czech Republic continued to read. "Yea. My legend goes that there are only two brothers, Lech and Cech. They take their tribe and move west. Lech takes half his men and settles up north and founds you, and Cech goes south toward the Rip Mountains and founds me. There's never any mention of Rus settling down in Russia." She looked up to see Poland staring at her with surprise. "Are you okay?"

"I'm, like, fine," Poland gulped. "How long has that legend, like, been around?"

"I don't really know," Czech Republic said. "Maybe my twin brother could tell you, he's more in to that kind of stuff. Oh, but he's probably busy right now, decorating for the holidays and whatnot. I'm not very religious myself, so I think it's kind of silly, but he loves it." She leaned over the coffee table and playfully punched Poland in the arm. "Hey, if our founders were brothers, we could totally be cousins or something."

Poland's jaw dropped. His host laughed and said, "I'm not _that_ awful!"

"No, it's totally not like that," Poland replied. _See, Hungary! I'm, like, not that ridiculous! Even CR totally thought of it!_

"So, is that all?" Czech Republic questioned, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "Just interested to know my point of view on a legend?"

Poland rose and began to shakily wrap the book and cellphone back into his scarf. "I've, like, heard all I needed to hear. Thanks."

"So you're just going now?"

"Totally."

"It seems silly to walk all this way for a question like that. Are you sure you don't want tea or something?"

"I'm good."

"Wait here for a moment," Czech Republic disappeared up the narrow steps that lead to the upper levels of her home. Meanwhile, Poland attempted to shove the fat cloth package into his coat pocket, which seemed to have grown smaller. Czech Republic returned with a green scarf in hand, and she herself wrapped it around Poland's throat. Producing a handheld mirror from the kitchen, she gave it to Poland and noted, "It really brings out your eyes."

"Dziękuję."

As Poland opened the door, Czech Republic gently squeezed his arm.

"Are you going to Hungary's for the Christmas party?"

"Totes."

"Awesome. Slovakia and I are going as well. You can give me my scarf back then."

Poland feigned disgust at her request for her scarf, and the two giggled. As Poland stepped outside, he decided to ask the question that he'd been rather curious about. "Why are all of Prague's districts, like, simply named District One, District Four, District Six? Back in my home, we, like, name our districts things like 'Stare Miasto' and 'Dębniki.'"

"It's easier to just remember numbers."

The two exchanged goodbyes and when Poland was already a few feet down the slushy sidewalk, Czech Republic called out, "And don't you forget my scarf, cousin!"

She did not see Poland start to cry again.

* * *

I hope you've enjoyed Chapter 2 of _Forgotten Brothers_. Thank you to everyone who checked the Story Alert box and/or posted a review, I really appreciate it! Really, I thank anybody who read this story. Til next time!


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